


Have a Biscuit, Hooch

by adavison



Series: Biscuits & Broomsticks [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Christmas, Christmas Tree, F/F, Frottage, Spruce Wood Doesn't Like to Behave, Tea, Vaginal Fingering, biscuits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison/pseuds/adavison
Summary: Rolanda Hooch has a difficult time wrangling the Christmas tree. Minerva decides to reward her efforts.
Relationships: Rolanda Hooch/Minerva McGonagall
Series: Biscuits & Broomsticks [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640350
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Have a Biscuit, Hooch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ms_SackvilleWest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_SackvilleWest/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, [Ms_SackvilleWest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_SackvilleWest/profile)! Thank you for the fun prompt of a naughty tree and McGonagall with another female. I loved absolutely every minute of writing this for you. 
> 
> Thank you to [MistressSage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressSage/profile) for the wonderful beta and encouragement!

Minerva sat in front of the fire, ensconced in her favourite armchair and wrapped up in a tartan dressing gown. The stack of parchment before her was slowly beginning to diminish. She had scheduled to grade papers for another hour, but she was beginning to lose focus. 

Why on earth Albus felt that English and grammar did not belong in the curriculum, she had no idea. Something else she would be sure to remedy once she became headmistress. Quills that contained spells that checked the user’s spelling and grammar only did so much and when the charms began to wear off… one was likely to receive papers that were so convoluted, even the student’s name was misspelt — like the one she was currently grading from ‘Roonil Wazlib’. No amount of red ink in the world would be enough to correct this monstrosity.

Setting the parchment aside with a sigh, Minerva poured herself another cup of tea and took a bite of one of the shortbread biscuits the house-elves had sent over from the kitchens. 

She had purchased a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade several years ago and it quickly became a solace during the school holidays. She enjoyed the feeling of being away from the castle and hidden away in a cosy home. 

It had been lightly snowing for the last few hours and the world was now covered in a fresh blanket of white. However, it seemed as though it was beginning to come down harder. The man on the wireless had said they were in for quite a storm that evening. She hoped Rolanda would make it back soon. 

The woman had been insistent on finding the perfect Christmas tree for their home. Minerva had protested, reminding her that Hagrid would be able to send over a suitable tree while he was selecting those that would decorate the Great Hall. However, Rolanda stuck to her guns. 

Christmas was her favourite holiday after all and everything had to be perfect. It had taken them the full six years of their relationship, but they had finally come to a compromise. Minerva would allow her to go all out if she waited until December to actually decorate. It was now five days until Christmas and she had been positively vibrating with excitement. 

Minerva stared out the window as she sipped her tea, willing the woman to return. As if on cue, she spotted a figure flying on a broom rather low to the ground, a large spruce tree floating behind it. A feeling of foreboding rose within her chest as she moved to the window to observe the progress. 

As they drew nearer, Minerva could see that the tree was giving the flyer some difficulty. It was much larger than Minerva had expected. While smaller than those that lined the halls of Hogwarts, this tree was sure to brush the ceiling of their cottage and take up a considerable amount of floor space. 

The wind, which had started to pick up, was causing the tree to flip end-over-end dragging against the ground from time to time. As she watched the spectacle, Minerva huffed out a laugh then waved her wand at the kettle to start brewing another pot of tea. 

Wrapping herself up further in a red and gold blanket, Minerva opened the door to watch the witch’s descent, slightly exasperated smirk on her lips.

In complete contrast to the interesting flying, Rolanda Hooch landed her broom with all the skill and poise that had become standard for the Hogwarts flying instructor. The tree, however, landed behind her with an unceremonious  _ thunk _ which shook off all the snow that had collected on its branches.

“Stupid bloody gods damned tree!” Rolanda muttered darkly as she stomped over to the monstrosity and attempted to wrangle it into a position where she could bring it into the cottage.

“Rolanda,” Minerva began.

“Of course, the most perfect tree had to be a damned spruce. It’s so bloody fickle and doesn’t like to behave. No wonder wands are rarely made from them. Have to show them who’s boss.” Abandoning her wand, she grabbed the tree by its trunk and began dragging it inside. Minerva promptly hopped out of the way.

“Dear, wouldn’t it be easier to —”

“No Minnie, it doesn’t want to respond to my magic, so I’m just going to have to make it do what it’s supposed to the Muggle way. Works well enough for them and they use spruce trees all the time.”

“Should have gotten a fir.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “you’re just saying that because that’s what your wand is made out of. The most beautiful tree I could find was a spruce, so that’s what we have to work with.”

Minerva wrinkled her nose at the trail of needles and sap that were following after the woman and her tree. She discreetly waved her wand, cleaning up the mess. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to shrink it down while you move it into position and secure it?”

The woman just growled in response as she wrangled the tree into its stand and screwed it in place. Minerva had been right, the top did brush against the ceiling. Once the tree was properly secured, Rolanda promptly allowed herself to collapse onto the floor with an exasperated sigh. “We’re not decorating that bastard tonight.”

“Oh?”

“It doesn’t deserve it.”

“The tree doesn’t deserve to be decorated tonight?”

“Yep. It was a naughty tree and it deserves to be punished.”

Minerva suppressed a chuckle, but not an eye-roll, and offered her lover help up after vanishing the sap residue on the woman’s hands. She dusted off the woman’s jacket and hair which were also covered in needles and sap. “Have a biscuit, Hooch.”

At the mention of biscuits, the woman seemed a bit more cheerful. The plate floated over to her, offering one of its treats. “Did the house-elves send them up?” she asked around a mouthful of treat.

“Yes, along with that coffee you like so much and other things for tomorrow’s breakfast. But for now, what you need is tea and a hot bath.”

The kettle whistled. Minerva flicked her wand in its direction and it began preparing the aforementioned tea.

Rolanda hummed, “A bath would be nice. Would you join me?” She wrapped her arms around Minerva, pulling her close.

“I suppose,” she relented. “I can always finish grading later.”

“Wonderful!” Rolanda’s grin widened and she spun them around, pulling a slight giggle from Minerva’s lips. With a quick peck on the lips, the woman pulled back and began stripping off her many layers as she headed toward the bathroom. “If you bring the tea and biscuits, I’ll help you with the first and second years’ essays,” she called over her shoulder.

Minerva shook her head in bemusement and followed, tea and plate of biscuits trailing behind her. The woman was rubbish at advanced Transfiguration, but she knew the basics well enough to be allowed to help grade the younger years.

She stopped just inside the door, leaning against its frame to watch her lover undress. It was true that neither of them were spring chickens any longer, but she never ceased to be utterly captivated by her lover’s body. The woman was a head shorter than her and well-toned from hours upon hours spent on the quidditch pitch. Even in winter, her skin glowed with a permanent tan. She smiled to herself as she watched the woman lower her form into their massive clawfoot tub, hot water and bubbles swirling around her as she settled. 

“Well,” Rolanda smirked, having observed Minerva’s staring, “are you coming?”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that I will be,” she murmured under her breath as she began to disrobe, neatly hanging up her dressing gown, folding her nightdress, and setting her wand on the small table beside the tub in stark contrast to Rolanda’s haphazard pile.

As she sunk into the tub behind her lover, she hissed in delight as the water enveloped her, warming all the places she didn’t even realize were cold. Once fully seated, she pulled Rolanda back against her chest and slowly set to work cleaning the witch’s hair. The woman had a bad habit of running her hands through her hair when stressed. Minerva was convinced that it was this, and not all the time flying, that left the short mane in a constant state that could rival Potter’s. 

Rolanda had begun to relax. She wandlessly, and at a distance turned up the volume of the wireless before floating a cup of tea directly into her hands. Apparently, someone had thought it would be a great idea for the Weird Sisters to do a cover of ‘God Rest Ye Merry Hippogryphs’. Rolanda was humming along though, so she let it go. 

At least it was better than Celestina Warbeck. Minerva much prefered instrumental carols and maybe the occasional song from the Screaming Banshees, if she were alone. However, she received so much pleasure from watching Rolanda enjoy preparing for the holiday. After the afternoon the witch had gone through, she deserved to indulge.

With a smile, she leaned forward and began leaving a trail of kisses across the woman’s shoulder. She received a satisfied hum in reply as the witch leaned back further into her embrace. She allowed her hands to roam down from the woman’s hair and began exploring her body. It was such a familiar territory, but she loved it nonetheless. 

She stopped briefly to pay homage to breasts which rose like mountains, teasing the undersides before allowing fingers to graze over peaked nipples. She intended to give nothing but feather-light touches and revelled in the breathy sounds that escaped her lover’s lips. In response, she felt a hand begin to run up and down her outer thigh. 

With a smirk, she allowed her hands to drift lower. Somewhat mirroring Rolanda’s ministrations, she ghosted one hand along the inside of a thigh while the other found the woman’s sensitive bud. She circled it gently, denying her the friction she knew the woman desired. 

Rolanda moaned and turned her head back to kiss her, teacup forgotten somewhere in the bath. Minerva gasped into the kiss as the sneaky witch snuck a hand between their bodies and pinched a nipple. The woman used her advantage and turned around fully to give herself better access. She sat up on her knees and slid close, placing a thigh between Minerva’s, straddling one of her lover’s legs and gound her sex against it. Minerva groaned and began to do the same, a hot pool of desire beginning to grow in her belly. 

The women’s nipples brushed together with every move and allowed them to look deeply into the other’s eyes. They gasped and moaned into each other at the sensation. The water in the tub sloshed lightly around them. If they weren’t careful, the floor would be soaked by the time they were done — but they cared little. What else was magic for if not to put to rights little messes caused by one’s delectation?

The women moved against each other, seeking their pleasure. They kissed languidly until their desire reached a fever pitch. Needing more, their grinding took on a more frantic pace. Their kiss deepened and Minerva began to roll one of her lover’s nipples between thumb and forefinger. The added sensation caused the coil of desire within Rolanda to snap. She cried out and came against Minerva’s thigh.

Watching in rapture as her lover came apart, Minerva was surprised when her own release crashed into her. 

Panting and sated, the women clung together as they came down from their euphoric high. Their kisses returned to a lazy relaxed pace. 

“Thank you,” Rolanda hummed against Minerva’s neck, placing a kiss at the juncture where neck met shoulder.

“No, thank you.” She gently carded a hand through her lover’s messy hair. “You worked hard to get us the perfect tree. You deserved to be rewarded.

Rolanda chuckled against her shoulder. “Let’s not talk about that naughty tree.”

“Oh the tree is naughty, is it?” she asked, a single eyebrow raised as she splashed a bit of water in her lover’s direction. 

Rolanda made a small indignant noise and splashed her back a bit more aggressively. “Are you implying that I am the naughty one? What are you going to make me do, Professor,” she challenged, “write lines?”

“Oh, I think helping me grade first and second year essays will suffice.”

“I was promised biscuits.”

Minerva laughed and waved her wand, calling over the plate still laden with shortbread. “Have a biscuit, Hooch.”


End file.
